Written by CBMokedi

Trigger warning: This chapter contains strong language and a kidnap and sexual assault attempt. It didn't happen but it can trigger someone who experienced it.

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Written by CBMokedi

The Honda shook as Charlotte guided it into her usual parking spot with a prayer. Every time she made it somewhere with the ancient piece of junk intact was a victory. It was her habit to park here right next to the entrance even when the company's parking lot was practically empty. At 9:30 am, she only spotted a red Volkswagen GTI besides a few trucks that belonged to the company.

She sighed at the vehicle. Allison had had a "lit night," according to her last text message before Charlotte had drifted off on Greyson's pillow. Allison probably didn't go home at all last night to avoid her dad's lecture and her sister's teasing. Charlotte knew the drill. She always kept some clothes in the trunk of her car for this reason. Allison would need work-appropriate clothes, or simply something clean and not making her look like a homeless person.

"Coworkers are not your friends. It's not good to blur the line." Greyson had said something like that. That was what he believed, but Charlotte was different. Life had taken an unexpected turn for her, but that didn't mean that she had to stop caring for and helping people when she could, especially the ones who had given her a hand when she was drowning.

Allison had crash-landed into Charlotte's life on a cold, rainy January night not long after she'd just moved to Helen from Atlanta, looking for a fresh start-the city had lost its luster when she didn't have someone to share it with anymore.

Greyson's birthday. Difficult things became soul-crushing on birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays when you dealt with grief. Charlotte had drunk herself to a stupor, hoping that it would block out everything. A new cabin in a new, picturesque town somehow was not enough to make you forget. Getting drunk alone in a sketchy bar would be the next solution. It could rank top on the list of stupid things Charlotte had ever done in her life, but she felt not-dead. Not quite alive, but not dead, at least. Although death might be not so bad after all.

Greyson would have frowned upon that. Hell, he would get very upset even when the only way he showed it would be watching The Spy Game or some similar old shows on repeat until he passed out on the couch. But he was not here, was he?

Charlotte couldn't tell the difference between a human and a lamp post by the time she stumbled out of the bar. Lazy Palm. What a name for a bar that has no palms. It sounded like some swanky spots in Key West where she and Greyson had spent their honeymoon. Why Key West? Charlotte couldn't remember.

The next thing she felt was hands. Cold, clammy, and rough hands crawled all over her body like snakes. A blanket of thick, stinky cigarette smoke cocooned Charlotte, choking the life out of her.

"Let's have some fun, baby." A raspy voice sang in her ear.

"Who...the hell..." Charlotte slurred.

"Aww, I'll take care of you, baby. Don't worry. We'll have a fun night."

"She looks like she's about to keel, man. Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yeah, I don't know, Whittle's been watching us like a hawk..."

"Shut the fuck up! Stop being a chicken shit and go get the truck!"

"Let me go...Please... My head hurt..." Charlotte cried.

"Oh, you'll be fine, baby."

Charlotte's legs wobbled as if they were made of dough. Her screams came out like a whisper. Charlotte was a stranded fish on land, and her fate was about to be sealed by these strangers. Suddenly, a voice shook her world.

"Hey, you three! What the fuck are you doing?"

Charlotte lifted her head in its direction. Under the yellow light, a small figure charged toward them.

"Leave her the fuck alone!"

The figure was only a few feet away from them now.

"Or what, honey? Are you gonna make us? Or are you gonna take her place?"

Their laughter made Charlotte sick. Her stomach turned upside down and the next thing she knew, Charlotte gagged and her whole stomach's content was released on the closest shoes.

"Oh! My! God! This is so gross!"

"You're on camera." The figure choked on their laugh before Charlotte heard some clicking sounds. "Besides, she won't ask twice."

"Oh, shit..."

"Let's get the fuck out of here, man. Bitch has a gun!"

"Shut the fuck up! I can see..."

"Did my sister tell you?" A new voice hissed. "To get the fuck out? So why are you still here?"

Whoever it belonged to was not in the playing mood.

"I told you, man! Come on! Let's go!"

"I'll remember this, bitch! I'll remember you!"

"I'll remember you too! Sheriff Whittle is on his way. I'll give him your best regards, fools."

Footsteps departed as the two figures came closer to Charlotte. Their warm hands landed on her shoulders.

"It's dang cold here. Let's get you inside. You can stay in our back room until the Sheriff gets here. He'll get you home."

"Who...are... you... "Charlotte murmured while flipping her mane of hair that smelled like puke, stale beer, and cigarettes out of her face.

"I'm Rose. This is my sister, Allison. Our family owns this bar."

Rose was a short woman with pixie black hair. She looked straight out of a cowboy movie with the rifle on her back. Meanwhile, her sister Allison seemed more laid back with her two long rainbow braids. They both wore black aprons with a small palm tree lying on a hammock.

"I like your bar..." Charlotte said.

"Ha," Allison chortled. "Thanks. We like it too."

Charlotte later learned that the Lazy Palm had been passed down from Rose and Allison's Pawpaw to their dad, and now, them. Rose ran it day to day while Allison helped out anytime she was free.

Charlotte wouldn't say no to their offer to stay and wait for the Sheriff. First off, after the incident Charlotte had just found herself in, she realized that small towns weren't necessarily safer than big cities for a lone woman. Second, she was immediately drawn to Rose and Allison. They seemed like the type that anyone would want to be friends with.

The sisters guided Charlotte back inside. The moment warm air from the heater blasted in her face, a thought came to Charlotte: Maybe, this is not so bad after all.

Allison was the one later telling Charlotte about the open position at Precision Builders where they both worked now.

Pressing "3" on the elevator operational board, Charlotte rested against its metal wall. Time had passed quite fast. The elevator's subtle movement in combination with its relaxing music transported Charlotte back into her memory until the door slid open. She squeezed the paper bag that contained clothes for Allison and stepped into a long hallway drowned in LED light that led to her office.

Allison was sitting by the water fountain with her sunglasses on. A half cup of coffee was next to her open laptop.

"Hey..." She whispered.

"Jeez, you look like you had fun," Charlotte said.

Allison's ash blond hair was gathered into a messy bun with a giant hair claw. Her purple Simpsons sweater had a huge mysterious stain splashed across its chest area. Allison's lips were pale and dryer than the Sahara Desert.

"Very fun...." She pushed her sunglasses up. "So fun that I won't be able to put two words together until after two p.m. Let me know if something happens... "

"You know it won't work like that."

A cheery deep voice made the two women jump. In his full 6'7, plaid-and-khaki glory, Stephen waltzed in with a box of donuts and his loyal stainless-steel bottle. The foreman pulled his bag to the side and pushed the office's double glass door open with his body. He then walked to the window and pulled the cord to lift the blinds all the way up.

"Jesus... Have some mercy!" Allison groaned as she followed in.

"No mercy for the wicked!" Stephen continued to the second and third windows, "I heard you had a wicked night."

"The rumor is true."

"Well, so don't worry about the daily report... "

"Oh my god, you're a lifesaver, Stephen!"

"...Instead, go through the budget one more time with Kate when she's here."

"Nooooo! You, bloodsucker, you!"

Ignoring Allison's bemoan, Stephen turned to Charlotte with a smile. "How are you feeling?" He pushed the donut box toward her. "Want some?"

Charlotte hesitated. Sugar triggered her migraine sometimes, but saying no to donuts was a sin.

"Well, I supposed one wouldn't hurt." She picked a chocolate one with two fingers. "Thank you, Stephen. I feel better than yesterday. And the day before." She took a big bite. "I 'eard 'we 'ot 'he permit... Excuse me."

"Yes, the city has granted us a permit on Vista Park at the last minute. So, we can go ahead and set up the paperwork... What do you bring for lunch?"

"Uhm... My usual salad."

"Damn, doesn't sound very exciting. I made some corned beef last night and used it for my sandwich. I packed extra. You're welcome to join."

Stephen's food was the stuff of legend. His honey-smoked ham had been a hit at the company's potluck two and a half years ago. This information was relayed by Allison because, at the time, Charlotte was still in Atlanta picking up pieces of her heart.

"Thank you," Charlotte looked at the man, "but I have to finish our order and forward it to Mr. Thompson. Don't wait up on me."

"So," Allison leaned on the door frame, "Charlotte is offered food when she has food. Meanwhile, I'll be feeding on Excel and air. Got it." She saluted and grabbed the paper bag from Charlotte. "I need some Ibuprofen..."

"You said you were vegetarian, Allison! Anyway, I'll leave it here. It's enough for both of you." Stephen fished out a food container from his bag and dropped it on the desk in front of the two women. "Please, don't forget to send me the budget report by the end of today."

"Oh my God," Allison turned to Charlotte as soon as Stephen disappeared around the corner, "He's such a pain in the ass, but at least he feeds you. Why don't you give him a chance?"

"Where does that come from?" Charlotte gasped.

"Come on, the whole company knows he likes you. Even Miles, and that kid is high half the time. I know it's been hard, but I think going out again might be good for you."

"I go out!" Charlotte immediately deflated under Allison's look. "I don't know... I just don't know. Honestly, I don't think I'm there yet."

"I'm just saying, although I know it might not be my place to say. It's hard to know when you're there if you never try to get there, you know what I'm saying?" Allison gestured. "I just don't want you to be alone all the time."

"I'm fine, Allison." Charlotte smiled at her friend. "I have you."

Allison threw her hands in the air and walked out of the room. "If you say so."

"If I say so," Charlotte mumbled while turning to her paper-filled desk.

WC: 1889